


when earth and fire collide (strange things may happen)

by sakura_freefall



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Do You Permit it out of context, Don't worry it turns out okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enjolras has fire powers, Eponine Knows All, Fight TW, First Kiss, Getting Together, Grantaire's POV, Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oneshot, blood tw, gavroche is sassy, grantaire has earth powers, violence tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25854517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakura_freefall/pseuds/sakura_freefall
Summary: Fire may burn brightest, but earth will catch you when you fall.Or, the Urban Fantasy AU that nobody asked for
Relationships: Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	when earth and fire collide (strange things may happen)

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, this takes place in a universe where everyone has some sort of power, and it's an accepted part of life. Modern setting. TWs for blood, fighting, and general violence (don't worry, nobody dies.)
> 
> Feel free to Kudos/Comment if you enjoyed! :)

Grantaire sat on the pond bank, absently rolling a ball of mud between his fingers, manipulating it into a perfect, shining sphere. His sketchbook sat untouched on the ground next to him. He lost concentration for a moment, and the mudball collapsed, melting back into its natural, porous state. So much for that. He shifted the dirt beneath him, adjusting it so that there was a little cushioned seat in the ground, and stared up at the sky.

He remembered the first time he discovered his power. He was twelve, which was already unusually late. Gavroche was only nine, and he'd had the beginnings of his for over a year. He remembered playing in the yard with his dog, from before he up and left the place. He remembered drawing shapes in the mulchy dirt, before realizing with a start that he wasn't actually holding a stick. The designs trawled themselves out of their own accord, responding like a muscle that he hadn't known he could flex. He also remembered the stark sense of disappointment. _That's_ _all?_ He thought to himself. He could manipulate dirt. Not rock, like Bossuet and Feuilly, or plant life like Jehan. Dirt. And he wasn't the strongest at it, either, not like Musichetta who had a similar power, but on a much larger scale.

In the grand scheme of things, maybe it wasn't that bad. Marius could manipulate a little bit of weather, but only within a few feet of himself, and he was better at causing fog or rain than he was at clearing the sky. Bahorel could start and direct fire, but not control it, which caused a good few incidents with the fire department. But he still felt the pressing inferiority of himself. 

Combeferre could fill entire pools with water, and manipulate the water as well. Montparnasse could harness shadows to cloak himself into the dark. Eponine could draw huge clouds of smoke out of nothing. Enjolras could use pure, hot fire with complete control, just hovering there. He could hold it like a globe, and even throw it and direct it. Grantaire's dirt-drawing paled by comparison. 

\----------------------------------------------

"The tensions rising between the Fire and Air sectors must be calmed. We cannot afford a split now, not after so much progress! The Separation Statement would permit public institutions- schools, workplaces, offices, parks- to deny entrance and use to people classified by use of a biased and weighted system! What constitutes a 'destructive power' anyway? There's not a term definition, which means that whoever gives in and seals the deal can manipulate the system to their advantage! It must be stopped, and stopped now!" Enjolras's voice carried through the Café Musain with such determination that nobody could doubt its sincerity. Panting slightly, Enjolras sat down, blonde hair streaked with sweat. Grantaire knew that deep down inside, it exhausted him. It would exhaust anyone.

"Good speech tonight," Combeferre said, filling his empty glass with fresh water. "Sit down, you're about to catch on fire." Enjolras sat down, taking a deep drink before sighing tiredly. 

Gavroche crawled over to Grantaire, snapping his fingers to make tiny sparks. His fire powers weren't completely developed- that could take another few years- but he was learning. Hopefully learning wouldn't involve burning down buildings. 

"Hey, kid," Grantaire sighed. "Don't you have homework to do?" 

"Maybe," Gavroche remarked, winking. "Don't you have some pining to do?" He pointed cinematically to Enjolras, who was talking to Feuilly and Joly, back turned.

"Gavroche!" Grantaire said. "I do not _pine!"_

"Yes, you do," he countered. "Eponine says so. Eponine says you pine all the time."

 _She's one to talk,_ thought Grantaire spitefully. _All of ninth grade, we heard nothing but Marius, Marius, Marius from her._ "Don't believe everything Ep says, Gavroche," he said aloud. He was picking up Eponine's trademark sarcastic attitude, and Grantaire found it both annoying and endearing. Gavroche scampered away, probably to bug someone else. Grantaire remembered to keep a lookout for flaming tables.

"Hey, R, you've been quiet today," Courfeyrac remarked, leaning across the table. "Never heard you go so long without some sort of grammar correction or missed point to remark on."

"Eh, it was fine this time," he said, mutedly tapping the table. "Although he's just looking for trouble. He could get marked as dangerous soon."

"The Musain wouldn't kick him off," Courf said, shaking his head. "Musichetta told me that everyone there thinks that the new laws are BS."

"But still," Grantaire said. "I don't want him to get, like, beat up or attacked, or something." Grantaire knew that the chance of that happening was small. Enjolras could easily injure someone, even kill them, with his fireballs. But would he? 

"Gosh, R," said Eponine, who had a ring of smoke drifting lazily around her head. "Do you have to be so _obvious?_ Some of us are trying to have a conversation." Grantaire responded by casually flipping her off, which made her roll her eyes. "Gav's watching, Lover Boy." She shook her head. "Keep it PG."

"Oh, yeah," Grantaire replied with mock sincerity. "Like you haven't taught him all the cuss words I know and then some."

"None of your business."

"And is my non-existent love-life yours?"

"Yes," said Eponine. "As your platonic life partner and soulmate, as well as the only reason you're passing senior year, it is very much so my business."

"I could totally pass senior year without you!" Grantaire protested. It wasn't true. He'd have flunked science long ago if it wasn't for her and her goldmine of information about literally everything. For a price, obviously. "Hey, Ep, speaking of love lives, there's your noodle." He gestured to the counter, where Marius Pontmercy himself, along with his pretty, blonde girlfriend Cosette, was standing.

Eponine blushed furiously. "I'm so over him. That was like, freshman year, Grantaire. Besides, he's dating Cosette anyways, and I'd prefer to not ruin the only friendship I have."

"I'm insulted."

"You don't count. You're like, that stray cat that keeps coming back and I have no choice but to put up with you. Now go talk to your Apollo, before I have to lock you in the closet together."

"Go away." He mock-shoved Eponine away from him and she retreated to the other table, where she immediately started lecturing Gavroche about something.

"Hey, Grantaire, are you okay?" He looked up from the table to see Enjolras, sitting across from him, a concerned frown on his face. "Something about you seems off."

_Oh, it's nothing. Just the fact that I have to have a crush on you, who absolutely hates romance, and only puts up with me because I proofread your speeches the days Combeferre can't, and make pretty flyers._

"I'm fine," he said instead. Gosh, Enjolras's eyes really were blue. Grantaire could get lost in them.

"Grantaire?"

"What?" he said, embarrassed.

"I asked what you thought of the speech," he said slowly.

Why was Enjolras asking _him_ for his opinion, rather than Combeferre, or Courfeyrac, or Feuilly?

"It was fine," he deadpanned. _It was amazing. I actually could imagine a world where all the sectors could get along. That's saying a whole lot. I don't know how you do it._ "The part about manipulating the system was a little much, though." _No, it was exhilarating. I couldn't have done better myself._

"Oh. Thanks for the input," Enjolras replied, not quite meeting Grantaire's eyes. "I'll try to keep it more grounded, you're right."

"Oh. Um. I'd better go," he stammered, hoping his cheeks weren't pink. "Lots of... homework."

"It's a Friday."

"Um, I need extra credit?" He wished for the thousandth time that he had Eponine's gift for lying.

"You? Extra credit? I don't think so." Enjolras's tone was neutral, but the words hit Grantaire like a knife. Did he know the effect he could have on people?

"Well, uh, I'm sorry? I really need to go..." he said, fumbling for his jacket. "Bye?" He made for the door, but as soon as he stepped outside, he heard a yell.

\----------------------------------------------------

Every instinct in Grantaire's body told him not to do it. Brawls like these happened all the time. He shouldn't get involved, shouldn't risk it.

But in the back of his mind, he recognized Enjolras's red sweatshirt. And just like that, his brain defied all logic and reason. And he beelined for the fight.

"What's happening?!" He yelled as loud as he could, poking his head into the bathroom, which was pretty loud, according to Eponine. "Leave him alone!"

The closest man looked a few years older than him, maybe college-aged. His face was almost completely covered by a hat, and he had glittering, cruel eyes. Grantaire wondered why Enjolras hadn't used his powers to escape- surely he wasn't _that_ self-sacrificial- when he noticed the circle of water somebody had formed around his hands. Water quenched fire. As long as his hands were submerged, his powers were useless. Blood streamed down his face, and his eye looked bruised. 

Grantaire launched himself on the nearest attacker, pounding him with his fists. He was strong from years of boxing, but the man had the size advantage, slapping him hard on the face. "Get out of here. This isn't your business."

"Yeah it is," he choked out. "That's my friend you're beating up!"

"He's insane," the man snarled. "Radicals like him are the reason we have this problem in the first place. The reason they let _dangerous_ people out with us _normal_ people."

"No- he's not-" Grantaire panted. "Not- dangerous-" The man punched him in the chest again, harder.

"Get _out._ Or I'll make you _pay._ "

"No." Anger flooded through Grantaire. "Don't _touch_ him." He felt stronger, the pain turning to white heat and adrenaline. He strained to look at Enjolras, shoved against the wall by two other people, tears running down his face. They couldn't do this. They couldn't. They couldn't hurt him.

"Last chance," the man said, pushing Grantaire to the ground. "Get out of here, or I can put you in the hospital. Or _worse_." Grantaire could smell alcohol on the man's breath, as well as something else he couldn't quite place. _I can't leave. I can't. They can't hurt_ _Enjolras._

The ground shifted.

Grantaire screamed at the top of his lungs, straining every bit of his mind. The floor beneath the Musain bathroom rumbled. Enjolras's attackers backed away in fright, and the water around his hands dissipated. The drywall started to crumble. Every muscle in Grantaire's body ached, like a million tons of brick had been forced onto him. He saw what looked like a burst of fire, and heard what sounded like Enjolras screaming, before the world went dark.

\------------------------------------------

Grantaire awoke to someone shaking him.

"Grantaire? Grantaire! Wake up!" He opened his eyes to someone holding him. Blue eyes... long, gold hair...

"Apollo?" he asked, his mind fuzzy from the fight, barely comprehending the world around him. "What-"

"Grantaire, are you okay? I was about to call the ambulance!" The voice seemed to come from a million miles away, but at the same time it was right there. "Grantaire, it's me. Enjolras. It's okay."

_Enjolras. Enjolras is here. He's safe. Enjolras..._

_Enjolras is holding my_ _hand._

Grantaire could feel the smooth, strong pressure. Enjolras ran his other hand through Grantaire's curly hair, as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Enj… Enjolras? Are you 'kay?"

"Grantaire, I'm fine. You'll be okay. You saved me. They... they were harassing Bahorel, saying... he was dangerous, and trying to force him out. Then I..."

"Is Bahorel okay?" he panted, head aching.

"He's fine, Grantaire. I made him go. He doesn't need another arrest."

"Oh. Good..."

"Here, R, it's okay, I'll help you sit up." Enjolras helped Grantaire prop himself up against the wall, arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Enjolras..."

"What? R, you have nothing to be sorry for. You... you were so brave."

"Anyone else would've done the same thing," he mumbled.

"No, you could've left me. But you didn't."

"Course I couldn't," he said, mind still hazy, exhaustion flooding through him with every minute. "I love you."

Wait. Had he said that out loud? Oh no... _Enjolras won't want anything to do with me_ _now..._

"Oh, no, Enjolras... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He fumbled for words, but came up empty-minded.

"Shhh…" Enjolras said, his voice softer that Grantaire had ever heard it. "It's okay. I love you too."

"No, you don't need to say that. It's okay."

"No, no Grantaire, I love you. I was going to tell you. I love you so much."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Do you permit it?" Enjolras whispered, running his hand through Grantaire's hair.

All Grantaire had to do was smile, and their lips met, and something felt _right._

Maybe everything would be okay after all. 


End file.
